


Where Do We Go From Here?

by wallaby_and_waffle



Series: Portal Fics [2]
Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Chell and animals, Chell has a big heart, GLaDOS you manipulative bitch, Gen, I dunno I can’t tag, Self Defense, Survival, That was rude but still, Wallaby_not_Waffle, post alien invasion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-15 00:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13019616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallaby_and_waffle/pseuds/wallaby_and_waffle
Summary: Chell has been kicked out of Aperture, only a companion cube for company. Her next moves were lived, but no one knew.Rated T for Violence and Language.Story by Wallaby





	1. Chapter 1

6 months. 6 months ago she was thrown out of Aperture, the door slammed behind her. The first night, she had taken in the area, the large, oddly abandoned farm. The small metal shed was odd, in the middle of the field, surrounded by wheat. By nightfall, the adrenaline that had been constantly pumped through the facility had been washed out of her system, and her bodily functions were suddenly very present.

Too present.

Fatigue and hunger immediately overtook her senses. Her throat was dry, her legs sore. She ripped off the long fall boots that GLaDOS had elected to leave her with, and immediately passed out, draped over the useless weighted companion cube. 

Over the next 2 weeks, she camped out around the road no less than a quarter mile away. She awaited the coming of a driver, someone to pass by so she could get a ride and get to a city, planning to could figure it out from there. She had found a small cottage out in the wheat field, hosting various canned goods and other necessities. However, she left the shelter, not wanting to stray from the road. But no one came.

3 weeks after being kicked from Aperture, and she saw something in the distance. Not a car. It was large, and... vauguely alike to that of a carriage. Silhouettes very alike to that of a human were walking, and there was something else. She couldn’t see. 

As it came closer, she saw what it was. A large carriage, three men and two women, and 4 horses, two of which were pulling the large California Goldrush-esque carriage. They slowed as they neared her. and she got a clear view. They had guns. 

“Put your hands up!” They called. She complied, dropping her small pouch of dollars she had found in the house and stepping back towards her cube.

”Any weapons?” The tall one asked. He was tall, a scruffy beard and rather long brown hair. His eyes were tired, and when she didn’t respond, he beckoned the woman to come forward and pat her down. Finding nothing, she gave a nod to the shorter woman next to the cart, who pulled a string. A large curtain was drawn, and a large display of guns, coats, canned goods, furs, medical kits, and other goods appeared. 

“Maximum 15 items, you’ll need at least 5 coins.” The tall man said. When Chell boasted a shocked, confused look, he He sighed. “Can you speak?” He asked, impatiently. She shook her head, slowly picking up the pouch of money. She handed it to him. 

“What’s that?” An English woman, busty but thin, asked, peeking over the tall man’s shoulder. 

“How do you have this?” The man asked, looking up at her. Confused, Chell stayed unmoving. He tossed the bag back to her, before motioning the rest of the group to come. There was murmuring, before man turned around. “Name’s Callon, I’ll give you 6000 coins for it.” 

Chell pointed at the bag, as if to ask ‘for this?’

”Yep, a whole 6000. That’s enough to get any nomad like you through an entire year.” 

She was sure he was asking for only part of what this was worth. Why it was worth so much she didn’t know, but she took the deal, getting a large bag of coins in return. 

“So, Whaddya want?” He asked. 

She motioned to the a pad of paper, and a package of pencils. She’d need that for communication. She got a decent medical kit, filled with ibuprofen, bandages, iodine, among other things. A 2 person backpacking tent, a rifle and a handgun. A month’s supply of jerky, a large water canteen, spices and salt, and some canned oranges. She counted up on her fingers. 11 items so far, she could get 4 more. Finally, she got a sleeping bag, a hatchet, and ammo for both guns. 

She paid 763 coins, and towered her items atop the companion cube. 

“Aight, let’s get a move on, gotta make it to Indiana by next month!” The Englishwoman called, and people started moving. Within a minute they were gone, and Chell was left alone wishing she had asked what was going on and where she was. 

The next few weeks were lonely. She began to formulate a thought: What if there weren’t running cars... or anything? There was obviously no civilization near, nor use for American bills. There was no running water at the cottage she had found, only large bottles.

So what the hell had happened?

Was there any civilization?

Theoretically, there was some, as large caravans like that one seemed to go town to town selling, they had to have a destination.

He had called her a nomad, only further proving her conclusion. 

But what had happened?

Of all of her questions, there was one solution: Walk to civilization.

And though Chell had been tortured, beaten, forced to undergo hundreds of tests by both GLaDOS and Wheatley, she was almost sad about leaving the familiarity of Aperture, as if she were hoping to see her friend, the Wheatly who wasn’t corrupted with power, once again. 

She was almost sad.

She spent 3 weeks preparing, after the Caravan had come. She stayed in the cottage, using whatever she could from the place. 

The day after she saw the Caravan, she burned her Aperture clothing.

She kept her long fall boots, not out of sentimentality, but because they were good for walking, not to mention landing on her feet.

She left the Cube outside of the shed where she was thrown, with a note enclosed in a ziploc bag.

_To Whomever it may concern within the shed:_

_I am hunting for civilization, Whether or not it still exists. I am going to follow the road a half-mile north of this shed to the west, and if after a month I have found nothing, I will turn back and return to the cottage a half-mile South Every essence of the shed that I had I have burned, save the boots and this cube. So if you want to find me, you’ll know where I am._

_I don’t know the date, but it has been just over a month and a half since I left the shed._

_A Caravan comes every 3 weeks on the road holding supplies, which cost whatever the currency of this obliterated world is. You can also trade, so if you have anything, You could probably buy some food at the least._

_I don’t know why I am even writing this, but I know that I don’t have a minor case of very serious brain damage, I am simply mute._

_Sincerely, ASHPD_

Anyone could look at this and think nothing of it, simply instructions for survival. But a resident of Aperture would understand. Specifically, Wheatley. Though Wheatley had turned on her, she held hope. He had been told he was a moron, repeatedly attacked by GLaDOS, mentally. And while Chell remembered nothing of her past, she knew that psychological attacks were the most painful and detrimental. He became a horrible being, through bullying, but Chell hoped for the best.

He had put GLaDOS in a potato, which, she had to admit, was hilarious.

And even if he was still corrupted, or GLaDOS got the message and sent a lackey to kill her, Chell wasn’t sure she’d want to live in this world. 

She wouldn’t kill herself, but if she was killed, it wouldn’t matter too much. 

She didn’t know why she left the message. She reasoned it was in hope she’d regain her friend, but in her heart she knew that wouldn’t happen.

But as she closed the cottage door one last time, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d come back to find a friend.


	2. The Place

4 months. 4 Months ago she abandoned safety to search for humans, survivors of whatever had overtaken the world. 

She trekked for days, pitching her tent at sunset and moving again at sunrise. The fields slowly morphed into forests, dense and fruitful with wildlife.

It’s where she made her first kill.

She had started a fire, pitching her tent a couple hundred yards from the road. While the fire was small, made of twigs, branches, and leaves, it kept her warm as the sun set.

That’s when it happened. There a single crackle of a twig stepped on, and then a shot rang through the air as a whizzing sound passed her ear. She whipped her head around to see a man, dressed in animal pelts, aiming for another shot. She quickly ducked for cover behind a tree, pulling her gun from her waistband. 

That’s when she realized she had no idea how to use the thing. Her eyes darted around, searching for... anything. Another shot rang as the bark of the tree exploded behind her, and she saw her weapon. A thick, solid shard of bark sharp enough to cut bread. She didn’t dare peek, the man still having not moved, not having made a sound. 

“Musta’ ran off, dumb girl.” He mumbled, his gruff voice cutting into the silence. She heard the crackle of leaves signifying his movement, and she didn’t dare move. The woman gave him 30 seconds, until he was obviously moving, looting. She hadn’t even thought about looters, raiders, any of the sort. Peeking to see his back turned, she made her move. Silently, she crouched down to grab the bark, and then darted around the tree and hit home in his neck. He whipped around, shocked, clawing at his neck as he went down. 

He pulled it out, an obvious mistake as blood squirted quickly from what she assumed was an artery. 

She spent the night digging a grave with his small shovel, shallow but good enough, before stripping him of his items and burying him. She gained 4 furs, another week’s supply of jerky, a small pocketknife, and best of all: a flask of whiskey. 

A small sip alone made her feel better. The Alchohol burned her throat, warmed her core, and she went to bed feeling better.

She stayed the next day, making a small cross for the grave, reorganizing her growing load of items, and teaching herself to use a gun. She carved a small target into a tree near the camp, before pulling out the handgun, still seemingly on safety.

The first 5 minutes were spent finding the safety and narrowly missing her foot when she accidentally pulled the trigger. The next 5 were spent unloading a mag on the target. Of course, only one hit the target, but she thought it was a decent start.

She met with a small caravan where she bought a pan and some fresh fruit and squash, making a squash mush that was delicious compared to the tough, salty jerky she was so used to. She ate the fruit for breakfast the following morning before heading out once again.

Apparently, a small town was only 3 days away, and she couldn’t stop smiling at the idea that she could try and live a normal life.

At least pretend she had led one before there was no normal.

Not anymore.

According to the caravan, an alien invasion had occurred, taking out national forces, and taking over the south. They didn’t like the cold all that much, so they killed everyone they could before heading out. They didn’t know the origin, or what EXACTLY caused it, other than Black Mesa tried to stop it.

Black Mesa sounded familiar. 

She didn’t know exactly where she was anymore, and she only had 5,019 coins left. To be fair, she’d never really known. She just knew that the old highway signs said Michigan. 

She remembered basic geography, sure, but she couldn’t remember where, exactly, Michigan was on the map.

It didn’t really matter, really, did it?

Her next 3 days walking were spent lonely, in her head.

She thought back to what Wheatley had said, about her brain damage. Was she really damaged? Or was she simply mute. She only jumped to try and get him to shut up, which proved unsuccessful. Or did she? Was she hallucinating? Was any of this really happening?

She avoided the general topic after that.

When she finally saw the city on the horizon, she couldn’t help but grin. She had to camp out one final night, about 5 miles out. She camped out next to road that night, not wanting to wait. But she did. She had a meal of canned corn and meat, which was surprisingly satisfying, before putting out her fire and climbing into her tent.

The night was uneventful, and she slept soundly.

Ske woke up to faint light shining through the walls of her tent. She got up, stretching her tired muscles. 20 sit-ups, 20 push-ups, 20 squats, and she climbed out of her tent. The peaceful sunrise left her breathless, the expanse of overgrown fields leaving a barely obstructed view. 

She packed hastily that morning, not wanting to miss a second of the town.

From what she could tell, it was fairly small, but there were a couple buildings sticking the sky like skewers. She saw no lights shining in the early morning, but perhaps they were without energy.

Each footstep echoed with anticipation as she neared the town, not registering the lack of noise or people. She was just excited to be in civilization.

As she reached the edge of the city, she scanned for a sign, notifying where she was, but there was none.

Where was everyone?

The lack of noise was eerie as she made her way into a neighborhood. A running car sat in a driveway, the house door hanging wide open.

Cautiously, she paced up the driveway, knocking on the door as she entered.

No one was answering.

She made her way to the back room, gasping silently as she entered.

A young woman, internal organs scattered around her, presumably hers, judging by the empty body cavity.

A pang struck her chest at the sight, and she turned away.

What the hell was going on here?

She left the house as soon as possible after that. Had the supposed aliens attacked? Who killed the woman? She crept her way outside, gun raised this time, awaiting attack.

She scouted out the driveway, before cautiously opening the door of the truck. The gas meter read that the tank was near empty, but, when she looked in the trunk, it was filled with jugs of gas.

Maybe luck was on her side, at least. She quickly walked to the next house, with overgrown bushes that showed no sign of recent residency. Scouting the house proved her hypothesis, and she quickly collected the foods remaining within the place.

Hell, she could be back to the cottage within a few hours. She’d walked for a couple of weeks, but she could be... home? No, she didn’t have one.

She left that place within the hour.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited the original, because I didn’t know what to do with the original premise.
> 
> Annyywaayyy.... kudos and comment <3


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